


Yield

by Titivillus



Series: The Sith's Informant [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Mentions of Prostitution, Strippers & Strip Clubs, dubcon elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 16:03:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8020255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titivillus/pseuds/Titivillus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darth Maul is sent by his master to pull an undercover job that involves meeting with an information broker on Coruscant.</p><p>The catch? The undercover part of the job involves convincingly playing the part of a stripper in a sleazy underground club - and the man Maul's there to meet just happens to be his least favourite informant in the entire galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for chapter one:  
> \- sexual harassment  
> \- implications of unwilling/forced sex work and prostitution  
> \- brief allusion to drug abuse

Maul _hated_ Iridonians.

Well, Iridonian _Zabrak_ , to be precise. Every one he’d ever had to endure the company of for more than two minutes had taught him one thing: they were inevitably – and often carnally – fascinated by their Dathomirian brethren.

How unfortunate, then, that he’d landed himself in a situation where he was scantily clad with two particularly handsy Iridonians harassing him and not a damn thing he could say or do to make them go away.

The circumstances weren’t of his choosing, of course – rather, he was riding out the latest punishment doled out by his master. Maul’s last mission had been a success overall – but a blunder in the final leg of it had left one more person dead than was meant to be, which meant precious time had to be wasted tying up extra loose ends. His master had not been impressed. Maul had already endured the more traditional punishments for his error, but his master considered the infliction of physical agony to be just one method of reprimand. Among his repertoire of disciplinary action were all manner of unpleasant psychological tortures; extensive solitary confinement, sleep deprivation, subjection to various unpleasant psychoactive drugs – there was little Maul hadn’t experienced in his time as a Sith apprentice. He was lucky, really, that he was being put through something so tame, for this time his master had opted for little more than good old fashioned humiliation to act as a deterrent to courting failure in future.

It was under those unfortunate circumstances that Maul found himself as a temporary worker at a Coruscanti strip club. The place catered to a clientele with a taste for exotic sentient species; the majority of the workers there were creatures from outer rim worlds, uncommon breeds hailing from obscure planets, and rare hybrids such as Maul himself was. Based on an underground level high enough that the streets weren’t entirely riddled with crime, but low enough to grant its patrons the illusion of discretion and avoid regular inspections (lest any law enforcement agents take umbrage with the fact that the place doubled as an illegal brothel), the club had something of a reputation for being popular among certain senators and rich off-worlders with money to burn.

It was a terrible wound to Maul’s pride to be paraded around with chains about his neck and naught but a pair of skintight gold shorts in the way of attire (indeed, the shorts left so little to the imagination that Maul expected it would be less humiliating to go without clothing entirely). His vivid hide and intricate markings would draw in plenty of revenue, the club’s owner had gushed.

“Dathos like you are popular with the folks who come here,” he’d elaborated, despite Maul doing his utmost to make it clear he wasn’t interested. “But your type are real hard to source. Our last Datho, Vervain, he brought in plenty of credits in the years he was with us – that is, ‘til his spice habit got too much ‘n’ he weren’t so pretty no more –“

The owner had continued talking after that, but Maul had decided that was quite enough learning about what his kind were used for in the wider galaxy for one evening, and promptly tuned the man out.

Still – even masquerading as he was in a strip club, Maul had something to hold on to. Ruthlessly efficient as ever, his master had seen no reason not to combine his apprentice’s degradation with a covert job. It was nothing fancy – little more than a meeting with an informant, in truth – but it was something to focus on, something to anticipate amidst all the leering and animal lust. A chance for Maul to claw back a scrap of favour, even at the cost of so much dignity.

The informant, for their part, however, was still a no-show six hours into Maul’s stint as an undercover stripper.

All in all, the whole thing had proven to be yet another stark reminder of why it didn’t do for Maul to disappoint his master.

It was this long wait that had led to Maul being cornered by the Iridonians in a quieter alcove of the club. Quite averse to being touched on the best of days, let alone being manhandled by beings such as the filth that made up the club’s clientele, Maul had staved off any molestation for hours by occupying one of the club’s poles. His impressive flexibility and physique had drawn quite the crowd, certainly - but, disgruntled as he was to have an audience, Maul had at least been able to lose himself in the physical demands of the performance. It was during that stint that he’d observed where the club’s regular workers would go to catch a break – and he’d thought that the spot he’d escaped to after faking an ankle injury would grant him a brief reprieve from the unwanted attention at the very least.

But no. No sooner had he slipped into the shadows offered by his chosen getaway was he hemmed in by the two Iridonian Zabrak patrons. They were leering and pawing scarcely before they were in the same breathing space as their ill-chosen prey.

Maul may have spent a lifetime suffering through countless miseries with the bigger picture in mind – but he could only play at being a docile, accommodating sex worker for so long before his hard-forged patience ran dry. The Iridonians seemed quite game to push him to his limits, however.

“Come on, baby,” one of them said, running a finger lewdly down the line of Maul’s rigid spine. “Relax a little. We’re much nicer than those Nightsisters back on that homeworld of yours…”

“I don’t know about that,” the other Iridonian sniggered. His hands were rough and inelegant in the way they mapped Maul’s markings, and Maul found himself longing - not for the first time that night - for the coverage his Sith robes afforded him.

“How much d’you think it’ll cost us to take him to one of the back rooms?” The first Zabrak groped dangerously close to Maul’s crotch, and it took every bit of restraint Maul could muster to quell the instinct to snap the bastard’s arm. If he caused a scene and blew the mission, his master wouldn’t be so lenient with his next punishment.

 “We can worry about credits once we’ve already paid and had our fun,” said the other. “It’s been years since this place last had a Datho in.” He reached out and took Maul’s backmost horn in hand, using it to wrench his head back. Maul bared his teeth and hissed a warning on instinct – but all it elicited from his harassers were smirks. “And look – this one’s _fresh_. Still got some fight in him. Better to get in early before he gets all used up like the last one –“

An accented voice interjected suddenly.

“Terribly sorry to interrupt,” it said, its volume indicating that its owner was perhaps a couple of metres away at most. “But I’ve already paid good credits for the pleasure of this charming being’s company for the rest of the night.”

The war between ‘restraint’ and ‘need to maim’ in Maul’s mind dulled somewhat at this curious turn of events.

Curious because _he knew that voice_.

Maul and the Iridonian pair turned to face the newcomer – and it was all Maul could do not to growl with renewed irritation when he saw who his latest ‘admirer’ was.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

 _As if the night couldn’t get any worse_.

The familiar human was clad in a heavy dark cloak with a hood that cast the top half of his face in shadow – but Maul would recognise the combination of that voice and mock-mild smile anywhere.

“Wanna show us a receipt for that transaction, pal?” the bigger Iridonian challenged. Neither of Maul’s harassers made to move away.

“No need for that,” Kenobi said breezily. He lifted one hand and waved it in a vague gesture. “Because you will take your hands off of him, leave this club, and instead settle for buying the affections of the STD-riddled whores at Rotson’s brothel down the way.”

The eyes of both Iridonians glazed over. Their hands dropped away from Maul’s body, and they repeated Obi-Wan’s words in a low, monotonous drone.

“We will take our hands off of him, leave this club, and instead settle for buying the affections of the STD-riddled whores at Rotson’s brothel down the way.”

“Glad to hear it, boys,” Obi-Wan beamed. The Iridonians moved away as though caught in a trance. Kenobi turned to Maul, smug satisfaction evident in his smirk; Maul, in turn, scowled.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was a rare asset: an informant who just happened to double as a Jedi Padawan. Although he had been brought into the Jedi Order as an infant, Kenobi had turned his back on the Light mid-adolescence in favour of becoming an information broker. For all the Jedi knew, Kenobi was a devout Padawan, unwaveringly loyal and as dedicated to the Light as any seasoned Knight or Master. In truth, he was a sly, self-interested insider who would readily sell Jedi secrets to the highest bidder – and Maul’s master may as well have been Kenobi’s sole customer for all the clandestine knowledge he’d bought from the man in his time. Whether it was disillusionment with the Jedi Order or raw greed that had sparked Kenobi’s treachery, Maul did not know (and nor had he ever cared to ask).

Still – valuable as Kenobi was, Maul _could not stand him_. They’d only collaborated personally with one another a scant handful of times in the past, and never for very long. Nonetheless, those occasions had been enough for Maul to develop a brand of contempt for the human that outmatched his generalised disdain for the vast majority of the galaxy’s beings; Kenobi was far too chatty, impossibly vain, and clearly thought himself quite the witty charmer and accomplished flirt, when he really amounted to little more than an obnoxious strain on Maul’s time and patience.

Obi-Wan pulled his hood up enough so that his face was completely visible, but did not go entirely without it lest his distinctive Padawan haircut draw unwanted attention. He made no attempt at subtlety as his gaze roved over Maul’s scantily clad frame.

“Well,” he said luxuriously. “Don’t you look _ravishing_?”

“Kenobi,” Maul said, curling his lip in distaste. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Obi-Wan scoffed.

“What? No ‘thank you’?” he said. “I _did_ rescue you from those pawing Iridonian types, after all.” Maul’s sour expression didn’t shift. Kenobi decided it would be in his best interests not to press the matter. “It’s nothing. I just heard through the grapevine that my favourite Zabrak was on show here tonight.” Kenobi had the gall to reach out and brush his fingers over the chains that hung about Maul’s neck. “Gold really does look stunning on you.”

Maul gritted his teeth against the urge to tear Obi-Wan’s throat out there and then. Had he not been under strict orders not to maim anybody or otherwise blow his cover, he would have quite happily broken Obi-Wan’s hand at the very least. Alas, the situation granted Kenobi a frustrating ‘get-out-of-jail-free’ card, so Maul settled for glowering instead as he bit out his next words:

“Seeing as you’re the only spy in the galaxy with the audacity to keep a Sith lord waiting hours for scraps of knowledge, I can only assume that you must be the informant I’ve been waiting on.”

“Now, Maul,” Obi-Wan chided. “Is there any need to take that tone with me? I’ll have you know I rushed over here as soon as I knew I was wanted. As if I’d keep a pretty thing like you wanting for my company.”

“Do stop with the tedious flirting,” Maul said flatly. “It’s making my job of not harming you far harder than it needs to be.”

“Oh, I won’t be able to manage that,” Obi-Wan said. “I can rein it in around lesser beings, certainly – but around a creature as breath-taking as you, I’m afraid stopping is quite the impossibility -”

Maul surged forwards. Obi-Wan was caught by surprise, ill-prepared to react to a display of violence – but it turned out that straight-up aggression had not been Maul’s intention. Instead of sprawling on the floor with the other man set on tearing him limb-from-limb, Obi-Wan found that he had been pushed back into one of the alcove’s plush chairs, and that he had a very beautiful, very crabby Zabrak straddling his lap.

Kenobi smirked. Pushing his luck continued to land him with unexpected perks on the job.

Maul took the front of Obi-Wan’s robe in a tight grip and leaned over so that he could hiss into the human’s ear.

“You want your fill of my body, you insufferable wretch?” he asked. “ _Fine._ Do as you will. But I want whatever information it is that you made me wait half a rotation for in this shithole.”

“Oh, Maul,” Obi-Wan drawled, taking full advantage of the offer by setting a hand on each of the Sith’s muscular thighs. “How _generous_.”

“Kenobi...” Maul warned in a low growl.

A vulnerable being would have heeded the warning and stopped - but not Kenobi. He was all too aware of his protected status, and so the growl instead registered as something intensely erotic; an empty threat from a predatory creature bound by intangible restraints, fear knotting at its core as it stewed in the knowledge that it was helpless at the mercy of a being with cruel potential to match its own.

Carnal hunger burned through Obi-Wan’s veins. The feeling of supremacy that came from having something as powerful as Maul forced into intractable submission, straddling his lap and tense under his hands sent illicit thoughts racing through the not-Jedi’s mind. He wanted Maul yielding and pliant beneath his touch; wanted him _begging_ for pleasure, mercy, pain; wanted all that unnecessary resistance to give way to breathless submission.

And Obi-Wan would have what he wanted. All in good time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for chapter two:  
> \- mild voyeurism  
> \- feelings of humiliation  
> \- some unwanted touching

So Kenobi imparted his information with Maul on his lap. He spoke in a low voice – partially so that other patrons would not easily be able to overhear him, but mostly so that Maul had to press in close to avoid missing anything. The Zabrak listened intently, doubtless committing the most vital elements to memory so that he could flawlessly repeat them to his master later. Of course, with the main portion of his concentration centred on memorising Obi-Wan’s words, Maul had less mental energy to expend on resisting the human’s affections. His muscles were no longer so tense as they had been at the start, and Obi-Wan had been able to judge Maul’s reluctant enjoyment of particular touches by listening for hitches in his breath or by how he subconsciously moved into or away from his hands.

But, though Obi-Wan told Maul all the information his master had paid him for in as lengthy a way as he could possibly manage, he ultimately only had a finite number of secrets to tell. Kenobi knew Maul would be keen to get away from him the moment his usefulness as an informant ended; and as his well of secrets ran dry, he found himself grasping for small talk that he might be able to direct in a beneficial direction.

“So, Maul,” he said, directing one of his most charming smiles in the direction of his reluctant companion. “I trust you’ve enjoyed your stint here?”

Maul glared back at him, looking like a man not at all in the mood for idle chatter.

“I think it’s quite clear that I haven’t, Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan felt a warm rush of arousal in response to Maul’s deep, scornful inflection. It ought to be a crime, he thought, for any being to have a voice so painfully erotic. Unperturbed by Maul’s lack of enthusiasm, but aware that that particular line of conversation wasn’t quite going to get him anything but a few choice soundbites for perusal during alone time, Obi-Wan jumped to a new topic.

“Are you wearing eyeliner?” he asked, as if he hadn’t noticed the gold rimming Maul’s vibrant eyes when he’d first got within talking range of him. He would have to give the club’s makeup artist his compliments before he left.

“Nothing gets past you,” Maul replied dryly.

“It suits you nicely. Perhaps you’ll consider wearing it more regularly, hm?”

Maul snarled, muscles going tense as though he intended on moving away.

“If the only thing you have left to do is mock me, Kenobi, I think my time humouring you is over.”

“Why should I mock you?” Obi-Wan smoothed his hands over Maul’s thighs, silently imploring him to stay. “On the contrary, Maul; I think your presence here is really quite remarkable. Here you are, the Dark Side made flesh, in a club that is but a scant few miles from Coruscant's Jedi temple, and not one of them has sensed a thing."

"Centuries of complacency have dimmed their awareness," Maul said, sitting back and relaxing slightly as he held his head high with an arrogant, lofty smile on his face. "Besides - what could they accuse me of if they did find umbrage with my presence? No Jedi but you has any record of me, nor my... 'activities' - and I hardly think they want to be accused of speciesism when I'm of perfectly standard colouration for my kind. I'm just an exotic dancer for all that anyone on this planet knows."

"And what a beautiful dancer you are."

Maul faltered. His expression turned to one of incredulity - and then he blinked and averted his eyes, folding his arms over his chest as he pressed his lips together in a childish pout.

Obi-Wan smirked. He’d hoped it would be that easy to throw Maul off balance – though he hadn’t accounted for just how adorably Maul would wear his bashfulness…

There was nothing else for it. Keen to set things in motion, and knowing that the next few minutes would determine whether Maul bolted, or whether he gave in to mutual desire, Obi-Wan reached out and touched the back of his hand to Maul’s defined abs. Maul jumped a little at the contact, his expression almost reproachful when he met Obi-Wan’s eyes again.

“I mean it, Maul,” Obi-Wan said, expression and tone sincere. “You’re a very handsome creature. How is it that you aren’t partnered?”

Maul scoffed.

“Why should someone as powerful as I waste time on the frivolities of relationships? I won’t make the mistake of splitting my priorities between my power and some undeserving being.”

“Oh, how _cynical,_ Maul.” Obi-Wan lightly traced a finger over the black lines marking Maul’s abdomen. “Come now: do you never yearn for gentle, familiar touch to offset all the violence courted by your lifestyle?”

“I think you’ve been reading too many romance novels.”

Obi-Wan laughed.

“Maul, I’m honestly astounded that you even have a concept of what a romance novel is. Really, though - have you _never_ considered taking a lover? I think you’d have little trouble finding a willing being to warm your bed…”

Maul rolled his eyes at the obvious insinuation.

“If you think I’d ever be interested in _you_ , Kenobi, you’re badly mistaken.”

Obi-Wan smiled easily.

“Then why are you still here?”

Maul froze. He opened his mouth with the intention of rebutting Obi-Wan’s assumption that he was there because of some silly attraction or ill-placed curiosity – but he was unable to conjure an excuse for his continued presence, so he closed it again and looked away. He settled for a growl instead - but it was a soft, trembling sound, lacking the guttural substance of his usual vocalisations. Not a threat, but a reluctant concession of defeat.

“I thought so,” Obi-Wan said. He continued mapping Maul’s markings with his fingertips, delighting at the way his companion’s muscles fluttered beneath his touch. “But, just so that I’m clear on this, I have to ask: would you like me to stop?”

Maul’s sense and training urged him to say ‘yes’. He had the intel he needed from Kenobi. Everything happening at that moment was a waste of time - a prolonging of his humiliation at best. He ought to walk away, check-in with his master and alert him of his mission status immediately.

But there was another part of Maul that didn’t want to leave – a desperate, touch-starved part of his psyche that _wanted_ all those pretty compliments and suggestive caresses. The attention was… nice. Pleasant, even, especially given that touch was usually so aversive a thing that Maul would sooner eviscerate someone than let them so much as brush past him.

Against all reason, Maul unfolded his arms and replied: “no.”

And when Obi-Wan reached up briefly to pet over the side of Maul’s neck and breathe “good boy”, it was all he could do not to whimper pathetically in response.

Obi-Wan, for his part, was a little giddy over just how painless securing Maul’s continued presence had been.

“I saw you earlier, you know,” he said, not wanting to lose momentum lest Maul start harbouring second thoughts. “On the pole, I mean. You move as if you were made for it.”

Maul raised a brow, his increasingly hazy expression caught somewhere between amusement and vague annoyance.

 “So you _did_ pause for a little sightseeing before you sought me out per my master’s orders.”

“Well, can you blame me? You were putting on a captivating show. I was entranced. I only regret that I was distracted by other business long enough for those Iridonian rats to put their hands all over you.” Obi-Wan’s voice dropped, coarse and deep with selfish desire. He lowered his hands to Maul’s hips, gripping the flesh there with bruising force. “If anyone is to lay claim to you tonight, it will be me.”

Sexual desire awoke so rarely in Maul that he was pressed, at first, to even recognise it as such. Initially, he misdiagnosed the rush of feverish agitation heralded by Obi-Wan’s words and actions as a fear response – but his inbuilt reaction to fear was to meet it with violence, or flee if there was no other option, and neither of those responses triggered. Nor, indeed, did fear usually pool low and hot between his legs…

So he _whimpered_ in response to Obi-Wan’s admission of his intentions, and rocked his hips forwards on the human’s lap. It was to alleviate the pressure from Obi-Wan’s hands, Maul told himself, and nothing to do with the unfortunately timed arousal taking hold of him.

Obi-Wan grinned. Maul was so _easy_. What had it taken? A little close proximity, some light flirting, and – _ah_. Good old-fashioned self-assured assertiveness. Obi-Wan had made his intentions clear, and all of a sudden the last of Maul’s inhibitions had crumbled away. It was simple, if one thought on it: what did Maul know of interpersonal dynamics outside of domination and submission, after all? Obi-Wan would’ve happily hedged a bet on ‘not much’ – and by the Ashla, that was going to work in his favour.

Obi-Wan silently urged Maul to continue grinding on his lap, guiding him with his hands. Maul reached out to grip the back of the seat, falling forwards and dropping his weight onto his hands. He dipped his head to pant and whimper as he rocked his hips in a lewd rhythm. Arousal was overriding what little common sense remained with alarming speed.

So, for a few moments, Obi-Wan enjoyed the visual spectacle that was Maul writhing on his lap, clearly becoming more turned-on with every moment, but with no clear idea of how to escalate proceedings or effectively get himself off. He was an effortlessly sensuous creature, all sleek muscle beneath patterned skin, stunning beneath those fine chains that moved with him and curved into the dips of his physique. Maul was so taken in his desperation that Obi-Wan was even able to carefully lift his hands away from his companion’s hips and drop them to the armrests of the chair without affecting Maul’s enthusiasm. It would be cruel not to help him along, Obi-Wan knew – and he had no intention of leaving without seeing just how far Maul would be willing to go – but he felt a strange tremor in the Force just as he was going to offer a helping hand. Curious, he felt out with his abilities, then turned his head and –

 _Ah_.

“Maul,” he crooned, brushing the back of a hand over Maul’s cheek. Maul faltered with a gasp, and looked up at Obi-Wan with glazed, lustdrunk eyes. “We have an audience.”

Maul blinked. Obi-Wan looked out to the main body of the club, and Maul followed his gaze – then froze, awareness seeping back as he took note of the number of patrons with eyes cast their way. As a being habituated to being in the shadows, out of sight, unknown to his victims until the last moment (and often not even then), Maul found himself suddenly, painfully conscious of just how exposed he was, arousal threatening to give way to humiliation and panic.

Obi-Wan took note of the shift in Maul’s demeanour, and quickly set to quelling any doubtful thoughts that might be rearing their heads.

“Shh,” he soothed. He moved a hand to stroke over Maul’s neck, willing the racing pulse there to settle. “ _Breathe_. You’re here for _me_ , Maul , not them. Still… can you feel their eyes on us? Feel all that jealousy they’re projecting over the fact that I appear to have your undivided attention?”

Maul dropped his head, inhaling and exhaling raggedly. Yes. _Yes_ , he could feel the attention of the other clients on himself and his human. He felt every covetous thought and feeling as they pulsed through the Force and coiled into a storm of envious contempt.

It was _intoxicating_.

“You are the most desireable being in this club, Maul. They would love to have you exactly where I do right now.” Obi-Wan curled his hand around the nape of Maul’s neck, silently delighting at the way he now pressed into the touch, consumed with want. He leant in so that he could press a brief kiss beneath Maul’s ear before he continued. “But you see, my dear Sith, none of them could appreciate you like me. None of them see the true beauty of you, an unknowably powerful being all trussed up in chains, as I can.”

Obi-Wan leant back and trailed his hand from the back of Maul’s neck, around and across his jawline until his middle and index fingers rested beneath Maul’s chin. Gently, Obi-Wan applied pressure, urging Maul to lift his head and look at him; true to form, Maul glanced up. Their eyes met. Obi-Wan thrilled to see that Maul’s eyes were glazed, bleary with lust, and that his pupils had dilated, so much that all that remained visible of his iris’ were thin bands of vibrant yellow, surrounded, as always, by those chaotic red limbal rings.

Kenobi smiled, and moved to run his hands lightly down Maul’s throat, skimming them down the Zabrak’s sides and letting them settle at the junctures of his hips and thighs. When Obi-Wan spoke, his voice was husky and suggestive:

"What say you and I go discuss what business we have left somewhere a little more... _private?_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up: 3000+ words of pure unadulterated smut. GET READY


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for chapter three:  
> \- one character becomes nonverbal for a portion of this chapter  
> \- non-human genitalia  
> \- elements of power play / d&s  
> \- light bondage  
> \- some mild rough handling

The back rooms at the club were about as seedy as one would expect – all garishly fitted out in various shades of red, illuminated dimly in an attempt at mood lighting, and stocked with enough fetish gear that one would be pressed not to find tools to suit a wide variety of niche kinks.

Not that Obi-Wan had much of a chance to peruse the devices saturating the various chests, shelves, and wall hooks; he had scarcely set foot in the room and shed his outer robe before Maul had set upon him like a starved creature making an opportunistic hit on distracted prey.

Obi-Wan knew nothing of Dathomirian courtship rituals, but he wouldn’t be surprised to learn that wrestling one’s partner for dominance was an intrinsic part of wooing a potential mate into bed. Certainly, Maul seemed determined that Obi-Wan wasn’t getting any further with him without a very seriously executed playfight. It quickly became clear to Obi-Wan that Maul wasn’t interested in _winning_ the fight; he telegraphed his plays amateurishly, and left openings where a combatant of the Sith’s capabilities would ordinarily leave none. Whatever submissive tendencies Obi-Wan had awoken in Maul in the public area of the club had apparently not dimmed on their short adventure to find a suitable place to sate their mutual desire, and it was this that allowed Obi-Wan to end the mock-sparring session after a scant couple of minutes by pinning Maul to the room’s bed.

He had Maul on his back – a position that left the Zabrak exposed, vulnerable. Eager to keep his volatile Sith pliant and limit his potential to cause quick damage if he got spooked, Obi-Wan bound Maul’s wrists to the bed frame with a length of rope that was among the paraphernalia in the room. In truth, the functionality of the bindings was superficial at best; Maul’s legs were free, despite being as lethal as the rest of him, and Obi-Wan knew that the expertly trained apprentice would be able to break free of his bonds in an instant if he so chose. Even so, it was a telling sign that Maul allowed the bondage without an ounce of resistance or grousing.

Content that the power dynamics from earlier were still in play, Obi-Wan positioned himself between his partner’s legs and put his hands flat against Maul’s chest. He found that there wasn’t an ounce of fat on the Zabrak; all he could feel as he ran his hands down the lithe plane of his torso was leathery skin stretched taut over lean, conditioned muscle. Maul’s expression was sour as ever, but the racing of his dual heartbeat beneath Kenobi’s touch and the quickening rise and fall of his chest betrayed his excitement. When his palms met the hem of Maul’s tight shorts, Obi-Wan paused. He felt Maul’s breath hitch with anticipation. It would be easy and appealing enough to get straight to business – but Obi-Wan could exercise patience in the name of riling up his haughty Sith. He smiled wickedly, and lifted his hands off of Maul’s skin so that he was touching the other man with naught but his fingertips. He skimmed them feather-light over the sharp lines of Maul’s defined hips and traced the black markings on his lower stomach, delighting in the way his muscles quivered again beneath the delicate touch. Obi-Wan continued the teasing until Maul was squirming and snarling with frustration.

It wasn’t long before his patience ran dry.

“Did you honestly tie me up just to  _pet_ me?” Maul spat.

“My goodness,” Obi-Wan drawled. “Rather  _eager_ , aren’t you?”

Maul growled, and Obi-Wan tutted.

“Now, there’s no need for that, is there? I’m sure I can speed up proceedings, seeing as you’re so  _desperate_ …”

Maul curled his lip in such a way that Obi-Wan suspected he was going to furiously deny his investment in their developing tryst - but the protestations died on his tongue, giving way to a needy cry as Obi-Wan curved a hand over the conspicuous bulge in his tight shorts. Maul bucked into the touch, clenching his eyes shut and hissing through his teeth.

Palming over the clothed outline of Maul’s cock, Obi-Wan found himself unable to repress a grin. He had been sexually involved with a varied range of sentient species in his time – and if those partners had taught him anything, it was that non-human genitalia was as diverse and wonderful a thing as the galaxy itself.  Having never slept with a Zabrak male before, least of all a hybrid type like Maul, Obi-Wan found himself giddy with anticipation over what his bound Sith would be giving him to work with.

He didn’t comment when Maul lifted his hips to facilitate the removal of his gaudy hot pants (fun as it usually was to tease the uppity Sith lord, there would be no sense in wounding his pride too far and risking him calling a halt to their fun so early). No; he undressed Maul in eager silence, tossing the eye-searing shorts aside and looking on his lover with hungry eyes.

He was  _perfect_. Obi-Wan had anticipated that Maul’s markings would extend to his cock, but he hadn’t expected to find them so breathtaking as he did; the fine symmetry of the black lines encompassed and accentuated the details of the Zabrak’s erection, erotic and disarmingly beautiful all at once. Still, Maul’s handsome patterning didn’t account for all of the visual splendour of Kenobi’s prize; the familiar-yet-unfamiliar form was equally attractive. The overall shape wasn’t ever so far removed from that of the average human – but there were enough exotic differences to whet Obi-Wan’s appetite. The slight upward curve of the Zabrak’s thick shaft was disrupted by the pronounced crest of its spaded head, and a series of light ridges lined the underside of Maul’s cock - but the most markedly non-human feature was the row of fleshy barbs running along its top side and corona. Obi-Wan reached out and ran his thumb over them, fascinated and curious to know whether they were as sharp and disagreeable as they looked to the eye; he was delighted to find that they were actually soft and malleable beneath his touch. Maul jolted at the contact, gasping breathlessly as Obi-Wan repeated the movement in a series of slow, gentle strokes.

 “I’m sure these feel interesting in-use,” Kenobi said, his voice measured, almost idle, as Maul snarled and twisted under his ministrations.

“Submit to me and perhaps you’ll find out.”

“A tempting thought, surely,” Obi-Wan conceded.  “But tonight you’re  _mine_.”

He emphasised the last word by tightening his grip on Maul’s cock – just enough to intensify the sensation, rather than induce pain. Maul cried out, then clenched his teeth together and hissed. Obi-Wan grinned, and pumped his hand a couple of times just to hear Maul gasp and bite back the moans the stimulation threatened to elicit – and then he bent over his lover so that he could kiss and nip at Maul’s neck as he explored the alien textures of his cock with his fingertips. Again, Kenobi exercised his self-control, and made no comment about how easily Maul had tipped his head back and bared his throat to his affections; in truth, Obi-Wan had been surprised, expecting at least a cursory snap of teeth or belligerent snarl before the inevitable submission. Still, he wasn’t going to dwell on such things when his actions were drawing such pretty sounds from his lover; deep, luxurious moans and shuddering gasps filled the room, so aurally arousing that Obi-Wan felt his cock pulse in time with each one. 

Maul’s cock, in turn, was heavy and thrumming under Kenobi’s touch. Obi-Wan swiped his thumb over the sharp tip of Maul’s erection, inadvertently smearing the copious precum that had beaded there down the slope of the cock’s head. Maul cried out, straining at his bonds and rocking into Obi-Wan’s hand, desperate for the human to increase the touch into something greater – and as Obi-Wan passed his thumb over the slick crest of Maul’s coronal ridge, he was struck with the sudden, urgent need to suck the Zabrak off.

He removed his hand from Maul’s cock to an indignant groan.

_Who knew you’d be so vocal?_  Kenobi just managed to keep himself from saying, grinning to himself as he trailed open-mouthed kisses from Maul’s throat across the length of his collar bones, down the middle of his chest, over the chains spilling across his torso, and further, steadying the writhing Sith lord with hands stroking over his sides.

By the time he’d reached Maul’s lower stomach, the Zabrak was trembling and canting his hips up, desperate for relief. Obi-Wan raised his head and lowered his hands to rub quieting circles over Maul’s hips.

“Maul?” he asked. “Are you feeling alright?”

Maul didn’t look down at him, but stilled and responded with an ambiguous whine.

 “Do you want me to continue?” Obi-Wan went on, unable to repress a smile at how strangely endearing Maul was in the haze of sexual pleasure.

For a moment, there was no response - but, eventually, Maul spoke.

“I –“ Maul’s voice was wavering in a way Obi-Wan had never heard it do so before – uncertain and self-conscious, entirely unlike the Sith lord’s usual arrogant tone. “I suppose it – it wouldn’t be…  _disagreeable_  if you were to continue.”

“Am I to take that as a yes, Maul?”

Silence again, were it not for Maul making a noise under his breath that was more a petulant little grumble than anything else.

Obi-Wan sighed dramatically.

“Maul, I can’t continue unless I’m absolutely sure you want this as well –“

Maul’s patience frayed.

“Damn you, Kenobi,  _yes_!”

“’Yes’ what?”

Maul growled in response to that, and it was a deep, resonant sound that said _‘situation be damned, we both know I will throttle you with this rope if you don’t hurry up, so bloody well get on with it’_. Satisfied, at least, that Maul was definitely interested in continuing, Obi-Wan took the base of his cock in hand and dipped his head to lap hungrily at the leaking tip.

Maul all but yelped at the first touch of Obi-Wan’s tongue against his cock. Obi-Wan grinned and laved up the length of Maul’s shaft, his tongue stuttering over the ridges and flicking precisely over the sensitive flesh of his lover’s frenulum. Maul’s cock jumped in Obi-Wan’s hand, precum oozing from the tip in impressive quantity. Obi-Wan paused briefly, watching the viscous fluid chart a lazy path down from the tip. He wondered if Dathomiri Zabrak were among the galaxy’s species notable for pumping out impressive quantities of precum when aroused, or whether it was a trait unique to Maul – but he had no time to chase that train of thought, his mind snapping back to the job at hand when Maul whined indignantly at the lack of continued attention. Obi-Wan cleaned the precum away with a swipe of his tongue, appreciating the bitter flavour, then playfully mapped out the markings present on Maul’s cock, tracing over them with his tongue tip until Maul was properly worked up, writhing and bucking his hips shallowly as if doing so might garner greater stimulation.

Luckily for Maul, Obi-Wan didn’t intend on teasing him forever. He dragged his tongue up to the point of the head, then went down on Maul’s cock, enveloping it in the soft warmth of his mouth. Maul’s girth was such that Obi-Wan could feel jaw ache developing within seconds – but it was all worth it just to hear the Sith’s filthy moans, to feel his legs feet scrabble for purchase against the bed and his legs brace against the overwhelming sensations.

The fleshy barbs on the top side of Maul’s cock tickled over the roof of Obi-Wan’s mouth, and the ridges on the underside played gently over his tongue as he alternately sank down on the textured shaft and pulled off, starting an easy rhythm. A rush of arousal coursed through Obi-Wan at the thought of how it might feel to be fucked with such a cock, especially by a vicious individual such as Maul; it would be a rough ride, certainly, but those _textures_ …

Perhaps he’d get the chance to give it a try some time.

Maul worked his hips in time with the bobbing of Obi-Wan’s head, drunk on the sensations of wet heat, gentle suction, and the frequent tight, fleeting squeeze of the human’s throat. At one point, Maul moved too sharply, too enthusiastically, and Obi-Wan choked, pulling away and mouthing “you fuck,” with those pretty wet lips before descending back on his lover with renewed vigour. Maul had intended on attempting to elicit the same response again, but Obi-Wan anticipated it and slung his free arm over Maul’s lower stomach, limiting his movements and punishing him by opening his jaw wider and relinquishing any suction, giving Maul nothing to move into but an agonisingly loose, wet hole with no consistent pressure to be found.

It was when Maul’s legs began to quake and his vocalisations became increasingly high and breathy that Obi-Wan knew it was time to move on; it wouldn’t do to have Maul climax so early into their fun. He pulled away, slow and sure, leaving Maul’s wet cock exposed to the air of the room. Maul moaned in response to the loss of contact, and it was so low and mournful a sound that Obi-Wan almost felt compelled to resume. He resisted the urge, and instead lifted the hand that wasn’t still teasing the base of Maul’s cock into the air, using the Force to open one of the bedside drawers and summon a vial of lube over. Hardly what Jedi were supposed to use their telekinesis for – but then, that manner of stuffy thinking was part of what had led to Obi-Wan’s becoming an informant in the first place.

 Obi-Wan set the lube to one side on the bed, then trailed his hand down from the base of Maul’s slick cock, ghosting it over his balls and taint until his fingers brushed lightly over the tight pucker of his hole. Maul inhaled sharply, muscles locking up at the touch. Obi-Wan stilled; he was eager to move on, certainly, but he wasn’t interested in totally overstepping his boundaries.

“May I?” he asked carefully, looking up and searching Maul for an answer. A tense silence dragged out over a few moments; Obi-Wan was just at the point of considering pulling away and moving back into charted territory when Maul made a quiet affirmative sound. Not quite ready to accept a noise he might have imagined as a definite ‘yes’ (and privately wondering just why Maul was no longer using words), Obi-Wan pressed the matter. “Are you sure, Maul?”

That little noise came again, and this time it was accompanied by a shift of Maul’s legs, a tilt of his hips as he angled himself as to provide greater accessibility to Obi-Wan’s questing fingers. Obi-Wan smiled slightly, accepting the nonverbal communication.

“Shh, then,” he soothed, stroking his free hand over the inside of Maul’s thigh. “I’ll take it slow. Relax, gorgeous. Relax…”

Little by little, the tension began to abate. Maul remembered how to breathe, and the rigidity in his limbs began to melt away under Obi-Wan’s caresses. He huffed quietly when Obi-Wan’s hands disappeared, then gasped as they returned, the one nudging at his rim now wet with lube. Maul almost seized up again on instinct, but caught himself, and fought to stay pliant and good for his dominant human.

“That’s it,” Obi-Wan murmured. He traced lightly over Maul’s entrance with his middle finger, then slowly, gently pressed in, watching as the slick digit slipped into the Zabrak with little resistance. Maul inhaled breathily, his body hugging tight around Obi-Wan’s finger as it pressed knuckle deep – but he relaxed on the exhale, and Obi-Wan bit his lip and smiled, eyes lidded heavily with desire as he experimentally drew his finger out of the tight heat of his lover and then pressed it back in again. Before long, he had slipped into a steady rhythm, murmuring directions and encouragement all the while. “You’re taking it so well. Breathe, beautiful. That’s it -  _perfect_. Good boy…”

Had Obi-Wan anticipated the effect praise would have on Maul’s eagerness to please, he would have employed it earlier. With each encouraging word thrown his way, Maul would keen and rock to meet every thrust of Obi-Wan’s hand. Maul hissed like a scorned nexu when Obi-Wan removed his finger to apply more lube, then all but wailed with need as two digits replaced the one.

“You’re so  _sensitive_ , Maul,” Obi-Wan purred. “I’m sure I could make you cum with no more than this.” He crooked his fingers and hit Maul’s prostate with devastating precision. Maul arched off the bed with a sharp, whimpering inhalation. “Oh, I could make you sing with pleasure for me, Maul. I could make it as slow and torturous as I wanted. I could wait until you were  _sobbing_ for release.”

He withdrew his fingers suddenly, and Maul cried out – but no sooner were they gone had Obi-Wan seized his prey’s thighs. He dragged Maul towards him as much as his bonds would allow so that their hips were pressed flush together.

“But I want my fill of you before our time is up.”

Maul breathed a shuddering gasp. Oh, but he _wanted_ to be claimed; what little reason he’d had left when he and Obi-Wan entered the room was long gone, replaced with raw, animal need. He whimpered mindlessly at the loss of contact when Obi-Wan pulled away briefly to derobe – and when Obi-Wan returned and settled between his legs again, Maul held his breath in anticipation of what was to come next.

Obi-Wan, for his part, paused. He had to ask just once more.  

“Do you want this?” Obi-Wan said, the quiet, considerate quality of his voice at odds with the brash tone he’d been affecting brief moments before.

 For a moment, Maul neglected to respond, and concern that he’d pushed too far made Obi-Wan’s stomach clench in an unpleasant way; but then he felt Maul’s thighs shift, and laughed breathlessly as the Zabrak wrapped his legs around his waist, urging Obi-Wan forwards with heels pressing into the small of his back. Though Maul didn’t look at Obi-Wan, apparently more content to bury his face against one of his bound arms, he made a quiet whining sound and rocked his hips gently.

Obi-Wan understood.

He moved in, settling a hand on one of Maul’s thighs whilst his other hand guided his cock to press against Maul’s slick rim. Obi-Wan was somewhat impressively endowed when it came to length, but his cock was otherwise slender and forgiving enough that easing into lovers was rarely a difficult task, regardless of their experience or lack thereof. Obi-Wan’s mouth went dry as he lined himself up, and all reason disappeared at the sight of his rosy cockhead nudging against that wet, yielding hole; without further delay, Obi-Wan pressed inside, moaning openly as his shaft disappeared into the accommodating heat of his bound Sith. He was quite sure he’d never had a lover open up to him so beautifully as Maul. Maul’s initial gasp shuddered into a long, low moan, his legs tightening around Obi-Wan’s waist as the human slid further and further into him until he was effortlessly hilted.

Obi-Wan fought to keep his breathing steady as Maul’s body clenched tight around his cock. He wondered how long his stamina would hold out, or whether he would even be able to _move_ if Maul didn’t relax his powerful muscles anew – but no sooner did the thought arrive had Maul eased his body into accepting the strange, but not unpleasant sensation. Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief. Carefully, he began to withdraw his cock, then pressed in again, starting off with shallow thrusts to acclimatise Maul to the overall feel of things.

That was how Obi-Wan set the pace. He soon progressed onto slow, deep thrusts, wherein he would pull out almost completely before plunging back into the warm grip of Maul’s pliant body. Maul made a beautiful, ruined sound with every stroke, his swollen cock pulsing and spitting pre as Obi-Wan’s coronal ridge dragged across his prostate – and, after a short while, Maul was moving his hips out of time with Obi-Wan, jolting them in short, quick motions as if to provoke his partner into moving faster.

It did not go unnoticed. Obi-Wan smirked through the haze of pleasure.

“What’s wrong?” he teased. “Don’t tell me you want it rough, Maul?”

Maul made a vicious sound, and rolled his hips sharply again, aiming to goad Kenobi into action. Obi-Wan would have been quite happy to play gentle with Maul all the way to climax – but if his Sith wanted to be put in his place so badly, Kenobi was damned if he wasn’t going to take the bait. Without pause, Obi-Wan leant back and detangled Maul’s legs from about his waist. He hooked his arms beneath Maul’s knees, and then he pushed forwards so that their faces were inches apart, dragging a strangled cry from his Maul’s throat as he was all but folded in half. The new position tilted Maul’s hips up, allowing Obi-Wan to press deeper with his newly quickened thrusts.

Maul whimpered and shuddered beneath the human. He threw his head back, baring his throat to Obi-Wan's mercy - and Kenobi took advantage of the moment, propping one of Maul’s legs over his shoulder to free up his arm so that he could take his prey's neck in hand and thrill at the feel of Maul's pulse racing beneath his skin. Maul gasped, but made no attempt to wrench away. Obi-Wan's hold wasn’t enough that it cut off air or blood supply, but it was not entirely benevolent – certainly firm enough that a being without Maul’s fortitude might have been panicked by it. High on power and relishing Maul's submission, Obi-Wan threw himself into fucking him with renewed abandon.  
  
Maul keened. His back arched and toes curled as Obi-Wan’s cock slammed into him at a devastating pace, playing quick and rough against his sweet spot. The pressure at his neck disappeared abruptly, and, lost in pleasure and confused by the absence of that commanding grip at his throat, Maul went to snarl; but no sooner had he lifted his head and curled his lip did Obi-Wan seize one of his front horns and wrench back, forcing the Zabrak to expose his throat again.

“None of that,” Kenobi chided, voice low and hard with arousal. Maul responded with a high, breathy whimper, reminded acutely of his vulnerability.

When Obi-Wan’s hand was gone, Maul made no move to rebel again.

“Better,” Obi-Wan growled. He elevated himself slightly to get a better view of his impassioned Sith, steadying himself with his hands gripping Maul’s thighs so that he could maintain the brutal rhythm of his thrusts. 

Maul was so far gone, exquisite in his ecstasy. He panted open-mouthed with his eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving as Obi-Wan pounded mercilessly into him. The sheen of perspiration covering his body combined with the mood lighting of the room to make his vivid red and black hide all the more striking to behold, cast in an array of shadows and brilliant highlights that glinted off the chains and accentuated every sensuous curve of his body as he twisted under his lover's assault. Maul's cock leaked precum, splattering it down his quaking stomach and chest in thick, chaotic trails. Obi-Wan took the engorged shaft in-hand, using the slick ejaculate to pump it in time with his thrusts.  
  
“Look at me,” Obi-Wan commanded suddenly. He wanted to see Maul’s eyes, wanted to see the submission of the Zabrak’s whole being reflected in them. When Maul failed to immediately obey, Obi-Wan squeezed his cock harshly, eliciting a whimper and trembling compliance as Maul glanced up to meet his gaze. Obi-Wan thrilled to see the evidence of genuine surrender in his lover’s eyes; his pupils were blown wide, softening the usual harsh, vivid glare of Maul’s yellow irises, and the expression in them was imploring, appealing, silently beseeching Obi-Wan not to stop.

Obi-Wan broke eye contact and nudged under Maul’s jawline with his nose, kissing at the rough black skin at his neck, then nipping with his teeth just to hear him yelp and feel his cock pulse in his hand. Obi-Wan spoke into Maul’s throat:

"Do you know what you are in this moment?"

Maul whined a soft, questioning whimper. Obi-Wan lifted his head and sought Maul’s gaze again, finding the Zabrak looking at him with glazed, animal curiosity.

"You are the most divine creature in the galaxy."

Obi-Wan angled a thrust perfectly with his words, and Maul  _sobbed_. He tipped his head back and shut his eyes, bucking his tilted hips erratically as if he wasn’t sure whether to chase Kenobi’s hand or cock; both sensations were becoming too much, too intense, but Maul wanted more, _more_ -

Obi-Wan growled Maul’s name.

Maul looked up, blindly obedient, and met Obi-Wan’s eyes again. The human’s gaze was intense - commandeering and dominant.

Obi-Wan issued a command:

"Cum for me."

The build-up of pressure in Maul’s body fell apart in a blinding thrill of physical pleasure as he complied automatically with the order he hadn't realised he'd been awaiting. Maul came with a ruined cry. His muscles seized and relaxed spasmodically as his hips jolted, his cock pumping cum over his torso. Obi-Wan’s hand didn’t stop moving over his shaft, milking him hard and quick for all he was worth, until his load was spent and Maul could do nothing but fall against the bed, boneless and yielding as Obi-Wan rode out his own orgasm.

Obi-Wan didn’t last far beyond Maul; the orgasmic squeezing of the Zabrak’s powerful muscles around his pistoning cock was more stimulation than any being could bear. The pleasure crested and crashed down on him like a wave, surging through every nerve and leading him to snap his hips forward and hilt Maul as he came, filling his pretty Sith with his cum, laying claim to him as he’d wanted to the moment he’d seen all those other beings turning their hungry gazes on him back on the floor of the club.

Obi-Wan dropped to his elbows, panting and shaking with the force of his orgasm. He pulled out carefully, and smiled in a fond, absent way at the tiny noise Maul made as he did so. Tempting as it was to slump immediately against the bed and let the post-orgasm bliss take him, Obi-Wan knew he had to tend to Maul’s bonds first. He made quick work of the rope, looping it off his lover’s wrists and tossing it to some far corner of the room as Maul curled in on himself, clearly working his way through the intensity of his own climax.

Anticipating that Maul would want space, Obi-Wan made to move to the opposite end of the bed; but Maul made a soft, bereft little noise at the loss of immediate proximity, and took Obi-Wan’s wrist in a disarmingly gentle grip to halt his retreat. Surprised, but not averse to Maul’s need for comfort in the wake of their session, Obi-Wan heeded the silent request, stilling and allowing his unlikely bedmate to press against his side. Maul was trembling, his hearts pounding and breaths coming fast and shallow. It struck Kenobi that he was privy to a rare and fleeting thing: a Sith lord, overwhelmed, vulnerable, and utterly spent, kitten-weak in his pursuit of comfort and reassurance. It was only as Obi-Wan went to pet Maul that he became properly aware of the cons of letting the afterglow take one into easy slumber following such an, ah… _messy_ conclusion to a bit of fun.  Gorgeously debauched as Maul looked with cum streaked across his chest and abdomen, it was not a state that made for pleasant post-coital cuddling.

Discreetly, so as not to spook Maul, Obi-Wan reached for the tissues on the bedside table; to his relief, Maul was blessedly receptive to his clean-up effort, shifting to make his job easier and only making a quiet, indignant sound when Obi-Wan swiped briefly over his oversensitised cock. Obi-Wan quietly eased the fine chains over Maul’s head, too, seeing no need for the jewellery to remain upon him any longer.

“There,” Obi-Wan murmured, discarding the tissues and chains carelessly over the side of the bed when he was satisfied that the worst had been dealt with. “Much better.”

Maul mewled a soft affirmative, then folded into Obi-Wan’s arms, nuzzling so close that Kenobi found himself repositioning to accommodate for Maul’s horns. He ran his hands soothingly over Maul’s quaking body, murmuring reassurances to quiet his tumultuous comedown.

“Easy…” he cooed. “I’ve got you, gorgeous. I’m here. I’m here…”

Slowly, slowly, Maul settled; his breathing regulated, his heartrate steadied – and he began to purr. It was a quiet, rippling sound (ill-practised, Obi-Wan would have wagered to guess), and it manifested in his chest as a pleasant vibration that rose and fell with his breathing.

Obi-Wan basked in self-satisfied contentment during those long few minutes spent with Maul dozing against him, knowing that few other beings would ever know the wonder of dominating power incarnate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time: maul bemoans his past self's poor decision making and remembers how to talk; obi-wan continues to be smug and insufferable.


	4. Chapter 4

Maul awoke from his post-coital nap with a fuzzy head and a wide yawn. It was that unhurried, pleasant sort of awakening wherein the mind is still caught in a dreamy fog, not immediately aware that sleep is ending and reality encroaching. As such, the first thing he became aware of as he began the process of waking up was that he was somewhere perfectly warm and very soft. It was a rare thing to wake up somewhere so comfortable –and so, in his sleepy state, he snuggled closer to the strange mound nearby that seemed to be the main source of all the pleasantness.

And then, all at once, the disorientating lucidity that came with realising that one was no actually longer dreaming barrelled into him. His eyes snapped open, and he realised with alarm that he was somewhere unfamiliar – and then he saw that the thing he was leeching warmth from was the slumbering form of another being (a human?) on the bed beside him.  Even worse – they had their arm around him. Why? What had led to this –

The human’s arm twitched minutely at Maul’s side, and visceral panic overrode any chance of a reasonable reaction.

Maul wrenched away from his bedmate with such force that they woke with a startled yell – and Maul, for his part, had moved so violently that he inadvertently sent himself careening off the side of the mattress. There was a brief moment before the point of no return where Maul realised his error in judgement and scrabbled vainly for purchase on the bedsheets – but it was too little, too late, and he toppled unceremoniously off the edge of the bed, taking the useless blankets with him.

Everything was still and silent for a few moments. Maul lay on the floor, dazed, confused, and half covered with sheets.

The confusion gave way to immediate irritation when the human on the bed started to laugh in a familiar, grating manner.

And then the irritation, too, died out, making way instead for sheer embarrassment – for everything came rushing back to Maul. He remembered where he was, why he was there, who he was with – and who he’d been doing, as it were.

Sure enough, a few moments later, Obi-Wan Kenobi stuck his head over the side of the bed.

 “Are you alright down there?” he asked, the genuine concern in his eyes at odds with the amused grin he still wore from his laugh at Maul’s expense.

Maul responded with a vicious growl. He sat up and snatched at the sheets he’d pulled down with him, gathering them about his lower body in an attempt to claw back some modicum of modesty. That done, he rolled his shoulders back and held his head high with a snarl on his lips.

“Why are you still here?” he spat.

Obi-Wan put a hand to his own chest and raised his eyebrows in mock-incredulity.

“Well, I _hardly_ had a say in my continued presence, Maul,” he said. “You were quite insistent that I stayed with you. You’re really very cuddly for a Sith lord.”

Maul bit his teeth together and clenched his jaw. _Damn Kenobi._ He could always be relied upon to be infuriating regardless of the threat display on offer. Maul rose abruptly to his feet, holding the sheets around his hips with one hand as he stalked to the other side of the room. He didn’t trust himself not to do damage to Kenobi if he kept mouthing off in close proximity – especially as the no-kill rule set by his master was still in play.

Obi-Wan didn’t get the hint.

“Oh, Maul,” the obnoxious human said. He might’ve rolled his eyes at the Sith’s crabby reaction had he been able to consider averting them from the lovely view he had of Maul’s well-muscled back. “Don’t sulk. The clinginess is ever so endearing, really.”

Maul wondered, briefly, if he’d get into any _real_ trouble with his master if he just ripped Kenobi’s Padawan braid out – but he quickly decided he’d rather not find out. Instead, he ran a hand over his face, willing himself to show the restraint he’d so clearly been lacking in earlier that night. _Kenobi_ , of all people. He gingerly tracked into the memory of what they’d done. Obi-Wan, saying pretty things to him, and petting him, and fucking him into the bed – kriff, for all that he disdained Kenobi’s company in regular circumstances, his approach to sex actually… left little to be desired. The mortifying element derived less from the act itself, and more from the ease with which he’d rolled over and allowed Obi-Wan to have his way. Maul had never been reduced to that whimpering, submissive thing by anyone but his master before – and even then, only ever in contexts far removed from what he and Obi-Wan had partaken in. What in the galaxy had possessed him to fall under the not-Jedi’s spell? Kenobi shouldn’t have been able to have that effect on him. It wasn’t even as if he’d been using Force manipulation – Maul could detect that sort of thing from a mile off. And he’d certainly not been plied with alcohol or spice – he hadn’t consumed anything the entire night.

But, if that was the case…

Was stupid, traitorous desire really the only culprit?

This frantic line of overthinking was interrupted by a call from Obi-Wan.

“Maul?” Maul finally turned to face Kenobi, if only because he never liked having his back to anyone for too long. “Really - are you okay? It was only sex, you know.” Obi-Wan paused, seeming to ponder something briefly – and then spoke again. It was difficult to tell if the alarm in his voice was genuine or not. “Oh, goodness – your species aren’t the mate-for-life type, are they? I didn’t even think of that. I don’t know that I can balance being a double agent with providing for a life partner –“

 “What do I have to do to make you go away?” Maul cut in. “Surely I’ve earnt a degree of respite by now. Don’t you have payment to collect?”

Obi-Wan didn’t miss a beat.

“The pleasure of your company is its own reward, Maul.”

Maul curled his lip.

“You’re nauseating.”

Nonplussed, Obi-Wan shrugged and then lifted his arms over his head to stretch self-indulgently.

 “The night’s still young, you know,” he said, settling back and patting the empty patch of mattress beside him. His eyes were dark and suggestive. “Why not come back to bed? I’ve been told I give quite the exceptional massage, if you’re in want of a little pampering –“

"I have to return to my master," Maul said curtly, making a point of turning away from Obi-Wan again. "And I look and feel _disgusting_. I have to wash.”

Obi-Wan pouted, and opened his mouth to object – but then he closed it again, and considered Maul’s words.

"Is he far?" he asked after a few moments had passed.

Maul glanced over his shoulder at Kenobi, brows knitted in confusion.

"… what?"

"Your master?"

"That's none of _your_ concern."

Obi-Wan rose from the bed, and, disregarding Maul’s continued bad mood, chanced to approach him and pass a hand over a particularly sensitive region of his flank.

"Mind if I join you in the shower?” He gestured with a nod at the discrete door on the other side of the room that no doubt led to a basic en suite. “I also have a 'master' to return within a time frame, after all.”

Maul curled his lip at Kenobi’s touch – but he didn’t move away. Emboldened, Obi-Wan brought his free hand to mirror the movement of the other, stroking slow, luxurious caresses down the rough skin at Maul’s sides. Gradually, the stubborn tension Maul was clinging to fell away. The Zabrak offered little more than a rumble caught between a purr and a growl when Obi-Wan pressed against his back and nuzzled the nape of his neck. His hands crept around to pet over Maul’s abdomen, drawing gasps that dropped into resonant moans as his fingers snuck south. Before long, Obi-Wan was teasing at Maul’s lower stomach, fingertips occasionally grazing the thin modesty sheet that had fallen dangerously low on the Zabrak’s hips. Maul’s initial façade of begrudging tolerance was gone, having given way to blatant, eager desire; he had melted back against Obi-Wan’s chest, purring openly and shifting his hips, beseeching the human to stop being a tease and make a play already. It was infuriating to Maul that Obi-Wan had such an effect on him, certainly – but the allure of further pleasure was undeniable. There couldn’t be any harm in indulging just a little longer, Maul told himself as Obi-Wan’s hands finally edged under the sheet.

“If you must,” Maul said at last, the beleaguered tenor of his voice betrayed by a breathy, desirous undertone. He shivered and huffed with irritation as Obi-Wan’s questing hands pointedly avoided his stirring cock, petting an infuriating border around it. He glanced over his shoulder to where Obi-Wan was pressing kisses against his nape, eyes narrowed. “I hope you’re aware that I very much look forward to killing you someday.”

He felt Obi-Wan smile against his neck.

“I’m sure, Maul,” he said. “I’m sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can hear you thinking 'titivillus why did it take two months for this tiny chapter to be added' and my excuse is that i am an easily distracted soul with a penchant for extreme procrastination. B) you're all champs for being patient and i'm sorry for ending this on the cusp of funtime (but it had to be done or this chapter would never have been finished lmao - maybe i'll elaborate on that part of the encounter some other time if there's demand for it!).
> 
> honestly, though, thank you to everyone who's left feedback on this fic, whether in kudos, comments, or messages over tumblr - i really appreciate it! <3
> 
> i'm hoping to start publishing the next installment of fic set in this au in january 2017 some time. in the meantime, you can find me over at [titivillus.tumblr.com](titivillus.tumblr.com), where you're more than welcome to hit me up with prompts, suggest kinks for exploration in future fics, scream at me about the joy of obimaul, and so on! i'll probably be posting a very short preview of the next fic on there within a week if that'll entice you. ;>


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